


Just you

by BarricadeKitten (Dominatrix)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling, Depression, Developing Relationship, Enjolras knows nothing of personal space, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Confessions, M/M, Revolutionaries In Love, Self Confidence Issues, and a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/BarricadeKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras finally finds the courage to tell Grantaire that he loves him. He didn't expect the discussion about to follow, though.<br/>(He probably should have brought notecards to defend his cause.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just you

**Author's Note:**

> These nerds will be the death of me.  
> (Also please just imagine Ferre in a moth onesie.)  
> If you wanna cry, rant, or headcanon with me, or if you just fancy a talk: shoot me a line on shut-up-marius.tumblr.com  
> Love, Liz x

Enjolras had this all prepared to the letter. (Of course he had, he was Enjolras.)

He had prepared a battle plan that just couldn't possibly go wrong: The Musain would be the perfect place to inform Grantaire about his non-platonic feelings towards the artist. It was familiar, but not too personal like any of their apartments. (And it also would make a quick escape much easier in case things went wrong. Which they wouldn't because his plan was perfect.) He would simply ask Grantaire to stay behind after the next meeting. (Enjolras had wanted to tell him as soon as he realised but according to Combeferre 2 a.m. on a weekday was not the time. Enjolras wasn't sure if he should take relationship advice from a man in a butterfly onesie. Combeferre insisted it was a moth onesie. It _most certainly_ wasn't.)

So far, everything had gone to plan. They had had a meeting, sketched out a new rally and spoken about their last letter-writing campaign, which had gone better than expected. Enjolras had asked Grantaire to stay after the group scattered, and pretended not to see the panicked look the artist shot Joly, or the comforting clasp of Bossuet's hand on his shoulder before they all left, leaving Grantaire wide-eyed.

Suddenly, Enjolras' mouth went dry. The speech he had carefully crafted to make sure Grantaire got the intensity and sincerity of his feelings was just...gone, and he remained with just a single thought in his head. After fifteen seconds of awkward eye contact, he couldn't bear it anymore.

„I love...I'm...Uh...I'm in love with you“ he said, hands clutched behind his back nervously.

Silence. Enjolras licked his lips and swallowed, trying not to pace like he usually did when something didn't go the way he thought, but he just ended bouncing on the balls on his feet for a bit because the stillness of all this was killing him.

After a few more seconds of silence, Grantaire opened his mouth to speak, and the blonde student smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way.

„What the fuck, Enjolras? What...I...Fuck, I'm too sober for this.“ Grantaire buried his face in his arms and heaved a pained groan. Enjolras just blinked while he tried to process what was going on, his smile having slipped after the first words. Frowning at Grantaire, still hunched over the tabletop with his curls and his arms obscuring his face from view, he cleared his throat discreetly before speaking up again.

„Didn't you hear a word that I just said?“

Grantaire snorted humourlessly at that, and raised his head again, looking at Enjolras with a careful expression, arms crossed in front of his chest. (And Enjolras was not thinking about how perfectly the t-shirt clug to his biceps and how badly he wanted to lick he tattoos inked on them. Definitely not.)

„Of course I did, I'm not fucking deaf you know. But I want to know why you think you're in love with me. Why should you be?“

Well, this was unexpected. Enjolras opened his mouth a couple of times with no sound escaping, all of his usual eloquence gone. „Because...because it's _you_. I love you. All of you. Not just the times when you're nice, or positive, or sober. I love you all the time, R.“

Grantaire shook his head viciously, gaze flicking everywhere but at Enjolras' face. His hands were curled into tight fists, knuckles white, nails biting into the palm. „I don't understand. Why would you _possibly_ be stupid enough to love me? Me?“

„I'm not stupid, Grantaire“ Enjolras snapped before he could think, but when he saw the dark-haired man flinch at that, he sighed and fiddled on the tips of his braid nervously. „I know you've got issues, but I will try to make you see that you are wonderful, and beautiful, and worthy. You deserve so many things, R. I want to show you if you'll let me“ he said softly.

„You will regret this“ he muttered, blue eyes now fixed on the blonde with a wrecked expression on his face, and Enjolras was not sure, but he thought there might actually be tears in Grantaire's eyes.

„You will wake up one morning, and look at me, and see me, really see me, and realise I'm a waste of time and space in your life. I'm a fuck-up, Enjolras. I'm an art student with no prospects, and even if I manage to graduate one day, I will still be a fucking artist. My skills are not useful to anyone, I won't be able to make my own living, I'll just be a bother. Don't say anything, please“ he said hastily when he saw Enjolras opening his mouth, curling in on himself even more.

„You know I'm an alcoholic, hell, you tell me every time you see me that I'm a drunk, and a useless one at that. I'm a cynic at heart, I'll rip your speeches apart at every opportunity, I already do and you never like it. My depression is managable on good days, and crushing on the bad ones. I might not be able to get out of bed for a week, I'm not kidding. And...You don't deserve all this. You deserve someone functioning, someone who can give you what you want. One day you're gonna see that I'm not that kind of guy. And then you'll _leave_...And it's gonna be terrible.“

His voice had steadily decreased in volume, and the last sentence had barely been more than a choked whisper which broke off at the end. Not for the first time did Enjolras wonder what the world had done to Grantaire in the past, and his chest seemed to be too small for his lungs, but he still struggled through a deep breath. Noticing the way Grantaire looked at him as if he was awed and frightened at once, the blonde student threw all his careful planning, his prepared speech and his promise to be gentle and slow into the wind.

Enjolras walked towards Grantaire's table and climbed into his lap, straddling him, frowning at the lack of protest when the artist didn't push him off immediately. He carefully cupped Grantaire's face in his hands when the dark-haired man cast his eyes down, forcing him to meet his eyes again.

„No. This won't happen. I know you think it will, because people have been treating you badly in the past, making you believe you are not worth anything. But I am not them.“

Enjolras hesitated, knowing that was not true at all.

„No. I am. But I will try not to be anymore. I have said terrible things to you, more times than I can count or remember, and I regret every word I used to hurt you. You drive me up the wall with your cynicism, but that is no excuse for the way I treated you. I know you say crass things just to pick at me sometimes, I know that, but you make me stronger. You make my arguments water-proof when you demand sources in that snarky voice of yours, and everytime I argue with you I know that I can argue with anyone else about this, because you see every weakness in my speeches, every time. I don't know how you do it when you're not prepared, and most of the time drunk or at least tipsy as well, and it's childish of me to get mad about that, but my outlet is to rip you apart. I have no right, I know that, it's terrible of me, and it hurts me to think about what I have thrown at your head. Please forgive me for this. _Please_.“

Grantaire just gaped at him for a moment, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, before he shook his head abruptly, as if he was waking up from a dream. „Oh, I'm meant to be saying something to that.“

Enjolras gave him a small, strained smile. „It would be much appreciated.“

„Of course I forgive you, Ap-...Enjolras“ he caught himself, knowing that now was not the time for playful nicknames.

„This is kinda the whole problem. Me being okay with everything you do. I take everything you give me, gladly, even if it kills me. The worst thing you could do to me is leave.“ Enjolrs nodded solemnly, knowing that they would need to talk about Grantaire's unhealthily submissive attitude towards him. Later. But not now.

„I'll stay with you, R, I swear. Even when you make me mad, and even if you kick me in your sleep. I don't care. I just want to be with you.“ He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked directly into Grantaire's eyes. „If you want me too, that is.“

Grantaire encircled Enjolras with his arms, pulling him closer and nuzzling his cheek carefully, as if he couldn't believe that he was really doing this. „Of course I want you.“ Enjolras exhaled at that, and dropped his head heavily on Grantaire's shoulder, turning just slightly so his nose was tucked against the artist's neck.

„I have always wanted you. But I hoped you would never recognise, so I could pine from afar and be safe.“ He hid the vulnerability from that statement with a chuckle, but Enjolras saw right through it, lifting his head and brushing a kiss against his forehead.

„You'll be safe with me, R“ he mumbled, not saying a thing about how Grantaire's arms hugged him closer at these words. He started petting R's hair instead, slow, languid movements that calmed both of them. „I won't do anything you don't want. I won't touch you when you tell me not to. Hell, I'd be glad to sit next to you not saying anything when I just know it's what you want in that moment.“

His right hand wandered down to the artist's face again, gently brushing over his cheekbone, and he smiled when R nuzzled into the touch. „I want to make you happy, R. Not because I pity you, but because I love you. I really do, and I hope I can make you a bit happier.“

There was a long silence after these words, and Enjolras started realising that this – him straddling Grantaire, their chests pressed together and his hands buried in dark curls – was probably not the standard position for having a serious talk about feelings. Thankfully he was far too anxious to even think about the fact that he was _straddling Grantaire_ , having to fight down an erection right now would be...awkward at best. It was only when he started to shift uncomfortably that Grantaire spoke up, voice low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in years and needed to find a way of fitting his tongue around words again.

„I start to understand why we chose you as our leader. You're good with words.“

Enjolras' lips twitched, but he didn't allow himself a smile just yet. He had to be sure. „Is that a yes?“ he asked tentatively.

Grantaire eased one hand off Enjolras' hips and pushed it through his hair, avoiding Enjolras' gaze and biting his lip before he turned his face up again. „It's a  _I told you you'll be miserable and you didn't listen but I'm too selfish to insist so yes_ .“ It was clear that he could barely hide his smile now, and the two men just stared at each other for a few seconds, grinning like idiots, before the blonde ducked down.

He gave Grantaire enough time to turn his head away, or say something, but when the only reaction was a tiny nod he softly touched his lips to Grantaire's, immediately breaking into a grin which made it not-quite-a-kiss, but it worked for them. Enjolras rested his forehead against the artist's and caressed his face with gentle fingertips while Grantaire hummed.

„That's good enough for me. For now. We'll work on making this a yes, though.“

Grantaire laughed lowly, joy sparking up in his eyes, and Enjolras couldn't resist; he kissed him again, properly this time, but still chaste. He didn't want to shatter this careful development between them.

When they parted, Grantaire kept his eyes closed for a second longer. „Say it again“ he whispered.

Enjolras needed just a moment to understand what he meant before he curled himself against the artist even more.

„I love you“ he mumbled against his neck, kissing the soft skin there, which made Grantaire shiver, his arms tightening around the delicate frame of the blonde student while he buried his face in Enjolras' hair.

„I love you too.“


End file.
